The song set me off.

[mugen_edamame]

A few months ago my aunt threw a going-away party for herself and her family because she was moving back home after staying in England for years. New job, what, hip hip hurrah!

I'd been to her house before on a few occasions, and I don't think I'm completely hopeless at directions. She gave me the bus route, and I set out late-ish because I was occupied with stupid, stupid things.



So dressed all nice, I set off. Onwards, tally ho. Like all idiots before me, I felt now was the time to bloody experiment. Don't take the recommended bus, instead take that line that I vaguely remember saying it goes to That Place. My vague recollection worked. I did get to the bus station where I was supposed to change buses at. Except, y'know, half an hour later than I would've been had I taken the smart option.

(The bus driver of that first bus waited in front of Tesco's as I ran in to break my note for coins. I felt like a hassled princess)

Now, there was a slight typo at this point from my aunt, leading me to a bus that did not exist. The other option, I was told, was to just splurge for a taxi. But I'm an intrepid adventurer, and we don't do taxis. So I tried getting into contact with my aunt, but a party is loads more important than a silly girl getting terribly confused in the Great Outdoors. So I tried guesswork, and got on a bus. We shall call it bus A.

(Turns out Bus A was the right bus, my aunt later confirmed.)

Except the bus driver shooed me off the bus saying I was wrong, and other waiting passengers informed me of some strange archaic schedule that involved numerous factors, including school holidays, time of day, time of year, and the presence of special occasions.

I was told to take bus B. But I was a disbeliever, and waited another half an hour for another bus A to return.

From which I was once again kindly told to get off, and this time the driver explained, yes yes si it's all that archaic stuff love, go on and on to bus B.

Enter, bus B. By now I'm so late I was only hoping to reach her house in the same day.

Halfway through the journey, the bus driver admitted to not knowing what the hell I was on about. Other passengers chipped in to help, mostly wizened old ladies come home from doing the shopping.

(I discovered later that some of the places mentioned, including where Sharon sends her Nev to school at, don't exist on any map.)

So I got off at some stop that the majority had voted upon, with instructions like Walk in the Direction of the Airport, in the reverse direction of the reverse of the direction of the bus. Or something. It was quite magical. I got quite lost.

It's summer though, so there's a soft breeze and the sun is bright and the neighbourhood seems pleasant. I doubted I would get mugged, which is all the comfort I needed.

I walked into the first pub I saw, and asked for direction from the barman. Who then told me he wasn't from the area. Cue local patrons, a husband and wife, who were (from the area).

Both of whom gave me conflicting directions. One said walk uphill, the other said walk downhill, then they stared lovingly into each others eyes, and nodded at me because apparently that all Made Sense. I was fairly tempted to ask for a cold glass of lemonade and just have a party in my head, but I carried on.

I cut across the neighbourhood, because that seemed the best compromise. Walked into several dead-ends, and the houses by now are grand mansions, with manicured lawns and flower petals everywhere. I've got my iPod on and it's hard to be disheartened when it smells of flowers and someone's singing in your ears. The sky's a blooming bright blue, and the very, very few people I met as I walked didn't know the address I showed them.

At this point, I'm not even certain I could find a bus stop. Any bus stop. Or even a cab.

Except for the glory of the weather and the weight of my gift-laden bag on my shoulder, I don't remember much. I must've walked at least a mile, but I wasn't sweating very much. I can't remember if my aunt or any of her family called. I think they probably did, but it's all pretty hazy now.

And that long, sunny mile on from the stop I alighted from, i ran into an old man and his grandson. I asked for directions, and the man calls his wife to get it for me. He walked me to a junction, this kindly Indian gentleman, and points me in the right direction. Walk on for a quarter of an hour, take a turn, and right at the end you'll find this street you're searching for.

His grandson's on his shoulders, doing what small children do and staring at me with what I reckon is suspicion. I say thank you, bow a little, say thank you again, and walk off. Obviously I turned around and waved as I crossed the street; it's empty, people are too busy being rich to be about.

Then a few minutes on I hear the purr of a car, and think good god someone thinks I'm rich and from around here and will kidnap me for a ransom but I'm not from around here and I'm tired and I'm feeling strangely Zen and I refuse to offer my body but they're welcome to the chocolates in my bag. Then I regretted bringing my small fold-able umbrella with me, because the sky was too happy to threaten rain.

Then I actually turned to see what was slowing to a halt next to me.

What ho.

It was the kindly Indian grandfather. He rolls down the window, and says his wife is fairly certain I am a lost, pitiful girl (which i was), and that he wasn't to come home until he had made sure I'd reached my destination safe and sound.

And I think, I shouldn't go into his car, he could drive me off into the unknown and mum will say that utter idiot Yu who gets into strangers cars.

And I think, he's old, I can break a hip if I'm forced to.

Then I though, fuck the lot of this I'd get lost again if I went, without a doubt, and he seems nice enough and I've not done anything karmically bad and what goes around comes around.

So I climb into his car and he drives off, and he asks polite questions and I answer polite replies and soon we're in front of my aunt's house, oh my god YES.

I climb out, and he says to take care of myself.

I tell him, yes, most certainly (and there're people in the house in front of me now to take care of me if I don't do a decent job).

I told him, thank you, and I said, God bless you sir.

He drives off, I go to the back garden, and a white canopy marks where the party's being held.

I was, I think almost three hours late, and my aunt was baffled by how I'd progressed. I had my first meal of the day there, I think, in late afternoon.

And I wondered how the hell I'd progressed the way I had too.

Getting lost made the day unbelievably memorable. I'm still grateful for the weather that day.